collection
by absolutefaith
Summary: Drabbles and one-shots - 17. "Nothing good come to those who give up."
1. Karma

_This turned out way different from what I imagined. The numbers on the top gives some sort of order to the story._

 _Written for the Magical & Mundane Literature class._

 ** _WC:_** _1216_

 ** _Extra prompts:_** _(character) Blaise Zabini_ _  
(Scenario) Being in a coma  
(Action) Asking for Help_

* * *

 **vi.**

He holds her hand as he watches her body – and mind – losing its war against death.

Thinking back, he is the one to blame, really.

He never did a damn thing to help anyone around him, so he is not surprised to learn that karma is a thing, and it is a bitch.

He just wishes that he'd discovered that sooner rather than later.

.

 **ii.**

He watches, with half-lidded eyes, the commotion in front of him.

Apparently, one of the students - from his house, of course – sent a another student to the infirmary. They were battling and one of them delivered a nasty spell that left the girl (Ravenclaw?) with his body full of blisters.

He saw the whole ordeal but, as expected, didn't do anything to stop it.

The Zabinis are not known for helping others in need of assistance so he doesn't know why everyone is looking at him like he should've done something back there.

After sixteen years of minding his own business, he is not going to change that now.

(As he thinks about it, he is the living proof that one doesn't necessarily learn from their mistakes.)

.

 **v.**

The Death Eaters came, along with Voldmort, and destroyed everything around him. He is not a fan of Muggle-borns, but it doesn't mean that he likes this mess that the others have left.

Now, according to the letter in front of him, if he decides to return to Hogwarts he will have to, along with the others who decide to return as well, help reconstruct the school.

He rolls his eyes at the letter because _really_.

He is not going to lift a damn finger to do anything about it.

(When he arrives at the platform, he dismiss the way the others are looking at him because _c'mon._ )

.

 **i.**

He thinks that his mother is the one at fault. Or maybe his Father. His absent, piece of shit, so called Father.

When he was little, he remembers how he used to scream "Dad, Daddy!" all over the place, hoping that, by some miracle, he would appear in front of him, telling him that it'd all be okay, that he didn't have to worry about a thing.

But it never happened and, as usual, he was left alone with his thoughts and tears.

" _Man up, boy_ ", his Mother used to tell him, " _He left us to fend for ourselves, so I need you to stop crying. I need you to learn that we can count with anyone but ourselves. Do you understand?_ "

Oh, how he understood her lesson.

Not only he understood it loud and clear but he also made sure that others learned it too.

(Even if they didn't want it. Or ask it, as he thinks about it.)

He tried to be a better person. He _did_.

But every time he saw the way Lucius looked at Draco, with nothing but pride on his eyes, or how Theo's father was always there for him, he saw red and decided that, if no one was there to help him, he was not going to help _anyone_.

.

 **iii.**

"You know, Zabini, one day you are going to regret it."

He just looked at his female companion as she throws her hands in the air, cursing the living shit out of him.

"You just can't expect to walk through life with not a care in the world. Even _I_ have to admit that we need others, so how come you can't do the same?"

"It's really simple, actually," He adjusts the collar of his shirt and throws a dismissive glance towards the brunette, "I just have to stay out of everyone's way and mind my own business. If I don't do anything that requires someone else's help, I'll never have to ask it."

Pansy just looks at him with an unreadable emotion on her face, "That's a sad way of living."

He shrugs because it's the only way that he knows how to.

.

 **iv.**

Everyone watches as Draco storms into the Dungeons, cursing the fucking Potter kid.

"What did he do this time?" Adrian asks, not once taking his eyes of the chess game in front of him. Nott is a damn good player and he just needs one slip to win the game.

(He finds it ironic that the Slytherins love to pay the muggle version of the game. He's not going to point that out though.)

"What he always does!"

As he starts to complain about how he's being punished _just because_ he tried to prank the other boy, Theo makes his move, saying, "Draco is the living proof that karma does exist, don't you think? Check mate."

Adrian groans as he tries to understand what happened.

"I don't believe in karma", Blaise says with an even tone.

Theo pats his shoulder before leaving. "You should. It's going to catch up with you, someday."

He just closes his eyes, hoping to take a nap before they have to leave for class.

.

 **vii.**

"Let me guess," He hears the door closing behind her "You asked for her help and she didn't do a damn thing about it."

He raises one eyebrow at her to indicate that he is listening.

"I'm not here to punish you, Blaise." She sits at the couch on the corner of the room "I'm just here as a friend."

He nods, squeezing the hand of his Mother even tighter.

"I've asked for her help, you know." He says to no one in particular, even though he knows that the brunette is listening "I said that my Mother is dying and she that that's just life running its course. She didn't even stop to _look_ at her. She has been in a coma for Merlin knows how long so what's the big deal, you know."

"What did you expect? That she came running to your aid just because you said please?" The woman scoffed at him, opening her purse to take a magazine out of it "That's not how the universe works, Blaise."

"You know I don't believe in karma, Pansy."

"Well, you should." She licks her lips before turning the page "Just because you don't believe it, it doesn't mean that it does not exist. Just like Draco, you are a living proof of it."

"But I've never do— I've never _cared_ enough to do a thing about anyone."

"Can't you see that that's the point?"

Without arguing, he just looks at his Mother again "So now is the time that I have some sort of epiphany and learn from my mistakes and such?"

"Hell, do you think I know?" She doesn't raise her eyes from the magazine "I'm just stating the facts."

"That's why you're here? To point out how I've been a jerk my whole life?"

"No. Like I said, I'm here as a friend."

He huffs, not letting go of his Mother's hand, "Yeah, well, I don't need a friend."

"Too bad. The principle is the same here. Just because you don't _need_ one, doesn't mean I won't _be_ one for you."

She smirks at him and he thinks, as he listens to the steady beat of his Mother's heart, that if karma is a thing, that he must have done something right to deserve having someone like her by his side.


	2. Reconciliation

_Written for the Transfiguration class._

 _Task: For this task I would like you to write about a person atoning for, or correcting past mistake/s._

 _WC: 996_

* * *

She watches as the woman in front of her places the bouquet of flowers on the gravestones at her feet.

There are three of them – her husband, her daughter and her son in law.

Her posture is stiff and if she didn't know better, she would've think that the woman belongs with the royalty.

But she knows better and that's why she's here.

She doesn't belong there. She belongs to the House of Black, despite what her Mother told her all those years ago.

.

 _She listens, with her head bowed, how her Mother is screaming with her sister. How she despises her choices, how she is condemning the Black family just like her uncle._

 _Raising her head just a little, trying to avoid any attention, she notices that her sister does not seem preoccupied with the fact that their Mother hates her._

 _On the contrary. Andromeda looks like she's in peace with her choice. Her face doesn't have the lines of worry that had become so common these days._

 _When she meets her eyes, her older sister blinks at her, as if saying that everything is going to be okay._

 _She believes her because unlike Bella, 'Dromeda is not a liar._

.

She's debating whether or not she should approach her.

It's been so long since they exchanged a word, or even a glance.

She doesn't know how to even start a conversation with her. So much has been said and done between them that she wonders, not for the first time since she decided to talk to her again, if it is even worth it.

.

" _I could really use your help, you know."_

 _It never cease to amaze her how Andromeda is so like Bella on the outside but so different on the inside. They both have black hair and their height is almost the same. Their smiles are very much alike, if you ignore the fact that Andromeda has a kind one while Bella's makes a chill run down your spine._

 _But now, as she watches how Andromeda is looking at her, without even a hint of a smile on her face, she admits that her sister has more of Bella in her than she lets on._

" _I didn't do anything, 'Dromeda."_

" _Yes, you did. You know how our family works, Cissa."_

 _Before leaving the room, she turns and, with her eyes as grey as the sky on a rainy day, she opens her mouth to say something. Deciding against it, she leaves._

 _._

After a particular nasty fight between them, she never talked with her again. They followed their paths: She got married with Lucius, while Andromeda ran away with the Muggle-born.

Not a day goes by that she doesn't miss her sister.

Both of them, as she stops to think about it.

She stays hidden as she follows the older one towards the grave that she knows very well.

Bella was crazy, that's for sure. She had her beliefs and she pitied the one who dared to cross paths with her. With her, it was to kill or be killed. At the end, she was killed by a mother, but she died happy, Narcissa thinks.

She was doing what she thought was right, defending the man that she once loved. The younger one can't think of a better way to die.

But even so, she was her sister. The one that supported her no matter what, even if it means going against her family, against her Lord. She taught her how to walk, how to talk and even how to cast a spell.

They used to be best friends. Both of them, and Andromeda.

Oh how she misses those days.

"I assume I'll have to be the one to start the conversation between us."

She raises her icy blue eyes and finds that Andromeda's back facing her.

"Well, it's not like I can just come up to you and ask how's your day."

"It's a start, don't you think?" Narcissa hears the amused tone on her sister's voice and wonders if not all is lost.

The blonde one nods her head because yes, it is.

They don't talk for another minute, both staring at the grave in front of them. It doesn't have a name because it's just a symbol. The Minister didn't allow Narcissa to bury her body. According to him, she didn't deserve that kind of honor.

But there it is.

Inside the Black Mausoleum, a grave with her name and her date of birth and death.

"Why "Black"?"

The blonde smiles tenderly, "Because let's face it: She was never a Lestrange."

The other woman laughed "Yeah, Bella was special like that."

"Do you miss her?" Narcissa asked, purely out of curiosity.

"Everyday. Can you believe it?" The black haired woman answered and her smile is bitter "Despite of what she did, of who she was… I miss her every day."

Narcissa nods because she knows the feeling.

"And I miss you too, Cissa."

Startled, Narcissa looks at her older sister. She's aged and there are lines around her eyes. She lost so, so much, but she's smiling and trying again.

"I don't know how to do this, Dromeda." Narcissa licks her lips and continues, "I miss you so, so much. But we've done so much with one another that I…"

Andromeda puts a hand on her sister's shoulder and with a soft smile she says, "How about we start with a cup of coffee?"

When Narcissa's icy blue eyes meet the soft grey ones, she doesn't hold back. She hugs her sister really tight.

They may be imagining things but both of them can feel their older sister hugging them too, even if it's for a brief second.

With a kiss on the top of her head, Andromeda releases Narcissa. The blonde one, with a carefree smile on her face, holds her sister's hand.

Looking one last time towards Bella's grave, they turn around and leave the graveyard hand in hand.


	3. First Time

_Written for the History of Magic class._

 _Task: first time falling/realising you are in love._

 _Extra prompt: (Pairing) Lily/James_

 _WC: 1015_

 _Quote: "It's true. Like, here, in this bar, there's only one thing that I see, and I see her brighter and more clearly than anything else in this world. You know what that is? That's love." - How I Met Your Mother, season 8, episode 14._

 _I'm sorry! I'm mean and you'll see why._

 _I don't own HP. *sighs*_

* * *

The common room is quiet tonight. Most of its residents are down for the night already. Only two of them are still there, both minding their own business.

Remus is reading a book by the fireplace, while James is sitting next to him. The other two from the group are out and about doing Merlin knows what.

While his friend reads his book, James stares at his profile.

"Something wrong, Prongs?"

He looks at his friend with a questioning glance.

"You've been staring at me for some time now. It's creeping me out, to be honest." They laugh a little at that. Then, "So, wanna tell me what's wrong?"

James looks at his hands and says, with a small voice, "I've seen the way you are with Emmeline. Are you happy, Remus?"

Startled, Remus puts aside his book, sensing that this is an important conversation. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

The black haired boy plays with his fingers. He licks his lips and stares at the fire in front of him.

"Do you love her?"

Remus crosses his arms in front of his chest and, with a knowing smile, answers, "Yes, I do."

"How?"

"What do you mean?"

With an exasperated sigh, James says, "How do you know that you love her? How do you…"

Raising one of his eyebrows, the werewolf considers his friend's question for a minute.

"Well?"

"Is this about Amelia?"

James pursed his lips. He'd been seeing the Ravenclaw girl for about two months now. They're kind of exclusive so, "Yeah, you can say that."

"So, bottom line is, you wanna know if you love her?"

James nods and Remus puts a hand on his shoulder. "You either do or you don't, James. I can tell you all about the way Emmeline makes me feel, but it's not going to be the same for you."

The chaser from the Gryffindor team nods.

"I'm sorry."

James smiles at him, knowing that his best friend is feeling bad for not being able to help him. "Don't worry, Remus."

The fireplace is still cracking when they both decide to head upstairs.

.

James breaks up with Amelia the following day.

He tells her the truth. Tells her that he doesn't love her so he can't see a reason for them to be together.

When she raises her hand to slap him, he doesn't move one inch because he knows that he deserves it.

When she slaps him, hard, he realizes that he's not sad because his relationship has ended. He feels relief.

( _He decides to not tell her that because, even though he deserved the first slap, he's not looking forward to the following ones.)_

After that, her eyes softens.

"You just can't forget her, can you?"

He looks at her with a quizzical look on his face.

She shakes her head and, with a tap on his shoulders, wishes him luck and leaves.

With an incredulous look on his face he stares at her retreating back, wondering what the hell just happened.

.

It happens two weeks later.

He's leaving the locker room after a nasty practice. It's the last game of the year, the last one that matters, anyway. It's against Slytherin _and_ they may be champion that year and he'll be dammed if he doesn't do his best.

He turns the left corner and spots her leaning against the wall. She's with her arms crossed behind her and eyes closed.

He looks at her for a minute longer, wondering what happened to all of those feelings he harbored for her all those years ago.

They've became friends after the end of the fifth year. Now, they're close to the end of their sixth and their friendship only grew. She's funny, has a quick tongue and beautiful eyes. She's loyal, she's honest and she's all he could've asked for.

"So," he crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits "I heard that you're not dating Amelia, anymore."

He laughs at her. "I swear that sometimes I think that Remus is one of those old ladies that stays outside of their houses to just gossip around."

She laughs with him and he feels the butterflies on his stomach.

"Yeah" her eyes softens and her smile is small. "He only talked with me because he's worried about you. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

He looks down. Trust Lily to go straight to the point.

"It's just that… I was with her for two months? Three, maybe? I don't know. And I didn't love her. Sure, you can say that I could give another shot, that things like that takes time and that I—"

She puts a hand on his shoulder. "James, breathe."

She takes a deep breath and when he looks down at her, he notices how small she is when compared to him.

"You had your reasons to break up with her. I just wanted to know if you're okay."

He puts his hand over hers and says, "I thought I loved her, you know? But it wasn't enough."

"It happens, sometimes." She tilts her head to the side. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. It's different for everyone."

"Yeah, Remus told me that already."

"What I can tell you though is that you'll know when it happens." She tilts her head to the side "You'll see that person brighter and more clearly than anything else in this world. _That's_ love."

He blinks once, twice. He licks his lips and his heart is not beating erratically anymore.

It's calm, it's quiet and he can almost feel like everything okay.

Her red hair looks like fire and her oh so beautiful eyes are shining so bright that he's afraid that he might go blind if he stares at them for too long.

Suddenly, he realizes that the answer was in front of him all along.

"James?"

Never losing contact, he takes her hand off of his shoulder and takes a step forward.

"Lils?"

His voice is quiet and her eyes are hopeful.

"Do you want to go out with me?"

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


	4. Enough

_Written for the Muggle Music class in Hogwarts._

 _Task 2 (Indie): Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division: Write about someone having marital problems._

 _Prompts (Use a minimum of 3):_ _(phrase) Love will tear us apart/_ _(location) Bedroom/_ _(word) Respect_

 _WC: 763_

* * *

She watches as he changes his clothes, preparing himself to go to sleep.

The fight started in the kitchen because he didn't think about cleaning the dishes. Then, it continued in the living room, because she needs to be more easygoing.

Now, they are in their bedroom.

Things are quiet and she can't help but notice that it's not like it used to be. When they were minding their business, even if they weren't talking, it used to be a calm silence. They used to be comfortable around each other.

Now she's sitting on their bed with her back facing him.

She knows that they need to talk but she's so tired. So tired of trying, of arguing, of _everything_.

And he keeps acting like everything is fine when, in reality, is not.

Looking over her shoulder, she sees that he's almost done with his routine.

Laying down, she decides that she's not going to deal with him tonight.

.

She met him when she was 14 and he was 16.

He lived down the street, with his parents. He's an only child, just like her and they bonded instantly.

However, when she was 18, they had sex and she got pregnant.

They loved each other so it made sense that they should get married. So that's what they did.

However, after almost twenty years of marriage and three beautiful children, she's starting to realize that maybe they needed to reconsider everything that they've been through.

.

He can't remember when it started.

One day he arrived late from work and the screaming match started.

She thought that he was having an affair. He thought that she was crazy to even consider such thing.

Then, she was the one arriving late and he was the one accusing her.

After that, they were fighting because her perfume is too sweet, or he takes too much space on their bed.

Now they can't stand to be in the same room and he can't help but wonder when did it all go wrong.

.

"You're home early."

She's sitting on their bed when he enters the bedroom.

He sits next to her and she notices that he looks really tired. She has a feeling that it's not because of his work, but she'll not say anything.

"I was listening to this song today. It's called "Love will tear us apart", you know?"

She has a sad smile on her face. "Of course I do, Draco. I was the one who showed it to you."

He looks sad too and she knows where this is going.

"You know that I love you more than anything right, Hermione?"

He never calls her by her first name. Their friends thinks it's strange that they still call each other "Granger" and "Malfoy", but they only say that they're used to it. Besides, they only use their first names when it's something important.

She's glad that he knows that this conversation is important to them.

"I love you too, Draco." She holds his hand.

He looks down. "I love you, and I respect you and I'd do anything for you."

She looks at the window of their bedroom. "Yeah… But I don't think I can do it anymore."

He nods. There's not much to say after all.

"What happened?"

She shrugs. "Life, maybe? We can blame the fact that we got married too young, that we're working too hard but the truth is that I don't know."

He looks inside her brown orbs. "I think that love, our love, is not enough anymore."

She nods.

"I was afraid that you're going to think that I don't love you anymore" She can see the sincerity reflecting into his grey eyes. "It's the opposite, I need you to know that."

She smiles at him because there are some things that never change. His concern towards her feelings is one of those things.

They stay in silence and for the first time in a long time she doesn't feel bothered by it.

"Maybe we should be separed for some time, you know? To remember what's it like."

He nods again and she looks at his pained expression. She's sure that she's looking the same.

"Do you mind if we do that tomorrow?"

He looks like a lost child and her heart melts at the sight.

"Of course not."

He climbs on their bed and lies next to her.

She lies down, with her head on his chest, close to his heart.

"I just wished that the love we feel for each other was enough."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


	5. Winner

_Written for Muggle Studies._

 _Task: For this task I would like you to write about a Muggle/Muggleborn/Halfblood teaching a non-Muggle affiliated witch or wizard a Muggle sport._

 _Extra prompts: (object) Tennis Skirt / (dialogue) "You whacked me with that on purpose" / (word) Pain_

 ** _WC:_** _1546_

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?"

She rolls her eyes at his question. "Because you've been really angry and, since you won't tell me why, the least I could do is help you blow up some steam."

He looks at her with a smirk on his face. "We could always have sex, you know."

"You know that there are more activities other than sex right?"

His smirk is bigger now. "We are so good at it, don't you think, Granger? Why mess with it?"

She punches him on his shoulder.

"I'm going to change. Down the hall is your locker room." She opens the door and enters. "Wait for me here, okay?"

Raising one of his eyebrows, he asks, "Are you sure you don't want me to go in there with you?

She slams the door on his face.

.

"Why didn't you tell me before that you're going to use this outfit?" He looks suggestively at her.

She walks towards him with an exasperated look on her face.

"You just can't think with your upper head can you?"

He kisses her cheek as she stands in front of him.

"The perks of dating a Malfoy. You should be used to it by now."

She shakes her head and, as she moves to pick up the rackets, he sees other guys eyeing his girlfriend.

"So, the name of the game is tennis. You use the racket in front of you to hit the ball to the other side of—Why are you looking like that?"

He directs his scowl at her. "Like what?"

"Like you have something shoved up your arse".

"I don't—It's just—" He looks at the other side and she can see that he's blushing. "Why do you have to use this piece of cloth?"

"It's called a tennis skirt. And I use it because I want too." She crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Do you have a problem with that?"

He shakes his head. "I just don't like the idea of other guys ogling you."

"Tell you what," she puts both of her hands on his shoulder and, pressing her body really close to him, she whisper in his ear, "If you behave properly I'll let you take the skirt off with your teeth."

Pushing her off of him, he picks up his racket and goes to his side of the court.

"So, are we going to play or not?"

.

"So," He looks over at her and watches as she positions herself, "All I have to do is throw the ball at your side of the court and score?"

"It's not that easy, you know" She points towards the vertical line at the side. "On the first serve, the ball cannot extend beyond these two lateral lines. You have to throw the ball into the air and hit it before it touches the ground and it has to reach my service area. Like this."

He watches as she throws the ball on the ground twice before doing what she said. He's mesmerized by the way she moves her arms and how long her legs looks on that outfit.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You have to rebound the ball."

"What?"

The minute he asks the question, he spots the ball rolling at his feet.

"Oh."

.

After fifteen minutes spent doing nothing more than hitting the ball at one another, she stops. "Okay, you got the gist. Now it's your turn."

He looks quizzically at her. "My turn to do what?"

"To serve."

"Serve what?"

"Malfoy."

.

"You have to stand on the right side of the court and you have to hit the ball in the service area located diagonally to me."

He walks towards his spot and asks her, "Why you didn't do it before?"

"Because I wanted to see if you could at least hit the ball to my side of the court."

"I played Quidditch in Hogwarts, you know."

"As a seeker, not as a beater."

"Potato, potato."

She rolls her eyes at him. "Remember, the ball cannot hit the ground."

"Yeah, yeah, let's do this."

.

" _Again_."

He groans at the sound of her voice.

"It's not that difficult, you know. You just have to hit the ball before it touches the ground."

"I know."

"Then why can't you do it?"

He looks at her with a venomous look on his face.

" _Again_."

As he tries to serve again, the racket slips from his hand, going towards her.

"Oh my god, Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

He races at her side and crouches next to her. She's sitting on the ground with her hand on her head.

"You whacked me with that on purpose!"

"Wha—Of course not! How can you say that?!" He puts his hand over the spot where the damn thing hit her head. There's a bump forming already and his heart break as she winces from pain.

"I really am sorry, you know."

He offers her his hand as she tries to stand up. "Yeah, I know. Just hit the ball next time, okay?"

He nods and she can't help but notice that he looks like a little kid, shaking his head like that.

.

"Now let's play for real, shall we?"

He nods and, even though he was complaining at first, he can't say that it doesn't feel good to work all of his muscles like this.

He prefers sports like quidditch or even that other game that she showed him – rubgy? – but this is nice too.

Besides, at the end of the day, he gets to be with his second favorite girl in the whole world.

So yeah, he can't complain.

"We shall."

He goes to his position and, as she moves to do the same, he asks, "How do we keep score?"

"Oh, I forgot about that." He watches as she licks her lips. "You need to win six _games_ to win the set. It's designated by terms like 15, 30, 40, and play, with zero points being referred to by the term "love"."

He nods, accompanying her explanation.

"To win the set, you need to be at least for a difference of two games."

"And what happens if we tie the game?"

She feels the hair on her arms stands up. She loves when he looks so focused. His eyes get that determined glint on them.

"Then, in other words, we have to play until we reach the difference of two points."

"Okay, ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

.

They've been playing for almost an hour when she decides to ask him her question.

"So, what's gotten you so angry during these weeks?"

He shakes his head, hitting the ball with more force than necessary. "You're not going to drop it, are you?"

"You know that I won't."

He hits the ball again and it go right into the net, falling on his side of the court.

"Score!" She celebrates and he can't help but smile at her little dance.

He feels his heart beat faster. He's really lucky that he's one of the few people in the entire world that gets to see this side of her.

"They expect me to fail."

She's preparing to serve when she hears his voice. "What?"

"They expect me to fail." He looks down. "I passed the course and I'm ready to be a mediwizard but it doesn't matter. They'll always see me as the deatheater, the defector the—"

"Who cares?"

He raises his head and watches as she puts her hand on her waist.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at you. You're here, learning how to play a muggle sport with a muggle who, by the way, is your girlfriend for almost two years. How does your family feels about it? And I'm not talking about your parents."

"They are probably rolling on their graves."

"Yes. And what are you doing about it?"

"Nothing."

She smiles with triumph on her eyes. "Exactly."

She walks towards the net and he does the same, stopping right in front of her. She's so small when compared to him but, it's in moments like these that he remembers how strong she is.

"You're a Malfoy, Draco." Hermione caresses his cheek and he leans towards her hand. "You only care about others opinion if you want to. Your family did some bad things, but some of those people did some horrible stuff too. You're a _Malfoy_ and don't you ever forget that, ok?"

He kisses her, hoping to convey everything that he's feeling in that kiss.

When he feels her small hands gripping his shirt, he mentally celebrate.

.

"Are you ready to lose?"

He scoffs at her. "Like that could ever happen."

They're on the last game of the last set. She's winning, much to his disappointment, but he can't bring himself to care all that much.

He feels lighter than he has in months and all thanks to the beautiful woman on the other side that decided to give him a chance. He doesn't like to express his feelings very often because he doesn't really know how to but, after this day, he'll try harder.

For her.

"I won!"

As he watches how she shakes her hips with an excited smile on her face, he realizes that no, she's not the winner.

He is.

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


	6. Anytime

_Written for the Potions Class._

 _Task #2: Bruise Removal Paste: A paste created to vanish bruises within an hour. Write about someone receiving an ugly bruise as a result of a physical fight._

 _WC: 621_

 _Didn't use any of the characters mentioned in the "Extra Credit" note._

* * *

"Prongs!"

The other two turned around as they watched their friend slamming the door of their bedroom.

"What the hell happened?"

The black haired boy sat on his bed with a black eye and a split lip, cursing at everything.

"That stupid, asshole, mother—"

"Okay, we understand that whoever you're talking about is a bad person, but can you please elaborate it for us?" Remus asked, searching through his drawers for something.

"Bet 10 bucks that it's about Lily." Sirius said and Peter made a funny noise, which made James show him his middle finger.

"Yes, it is about Lily but this time it wasn't my fault." He looked at his hands. "I was coming back from the library when I heard some noises coming from the other corridor. At first I thought that it was some couple fooling around. Then, as I was leaving, I heard the girl, who turned out to be Lily, saying "you will not get away with this"."

At this point, he had the attention of all of his friends.

"I ran and when I saw it, he was holding her by her hair, with his wand on her neck. And he kept saying how the Dark Lord will rise and stuff. All I could see though was Lily, with a brave look and tears on her eyes."

"Then what happened?" Remus asked.

"I pushed him off of her, then we started to throw punches at one another. Lily tried to stop us but then his arm hit her stomach and she fell. After that, I was punching him harder than before. Suddenly, everything stopped and when I came to my senses, Diggory was holding the asshole down while Lily was crouched near me, with her hand on my head."

"Fuck James."

"Yeah, fuck indeed." He released a long breath and laid down on his bed. "She told me to come to my bedroom, so I wouldn't be on detention. Don't know how she'll manage to do that, but I ran here just the same."

Silence fell over them.

"And what are you going to do now?" Sirius asked in a quiet voice.

"Now I'm going to sleep because my head hurts like hell and wait until someone comes in here to tell me what my detention is going to be."

"But James—"

"No, Pads." the black haired teenager shook his head. "Good night."

The other three answered and left the room.

.

"James?"

He groaned. "Just leave me alone already, Pads."

"I'm not Pads and I'm not going to leave you alone. So can you please open your eyes?"

Startled, he opened his eyes only to find Lily's green ones staring at him.

"Hi."

"Am I dreaming?"

She smiled at him, making his heart beat even faster. "No, you're not. But if you keep acting like an idiot, I'll punch you in the face myself."

He sat on his bed with a grin on his face, watching her as she gave him more space.

"So? Came here to tell me what my punishment will be?"

She took a vial out of her pocket and handed it to him.

"Punishment for what?"

He looked at the vial handed to him. "Is this a…"

"Bruise Removal Paste, yes." She nodded and he can see her cheeks reddening. "I don't want you to get in trouble because of me, so I talked with Diggory and he erased Smith's memory. So, I made this for you to make sure that—"

He drops the vial on his bed and holds her face. "Thank you, Lily."

She smiles at him and he swears it's the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

"Anytime, James." She kisses his lips. "Anytime."


	7. Beauxbatons

_Written for the Magic around the world class._

 _Task #1: Write about a Hogwarts student (current or graduated) visiting one of the above mentioned schools and why he/she is there (exchange year; visiting a pen-pal...)_

 _Extra prompts: object: letter_

 _setting: Quidditch pitch_

 _WC: 612_

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?"

Marlene complained for the fifth time.

"Because Dumbledore said so, 'Lene." Bones answered her, walking in front of the group.

"Yes, but _why_ " The brunette said, crossing her arms in front of her. "They can do just fine without us."

"Jealous, Lene?" Fabian asked, hugging her with his right arm.

"Of what, exactly?" She gives him her nasty glare.

"Of us, of course!" The other twin, Gideon, exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. "You are one of the few who is allowed to walk with us."

"What an _honor_." She answers him sarcastically.

"Besides," Sirius Black, the beater of the team says to her, with a smirk covering his face. "You are _my_ favorite girl."

She shows him her middle finger, making everyone around her laugh.

They walked till the end of the corridor and, when they arrived at the quidditch pitch, they were amazed at what they saw.

The place had twice the size that theirs had, with a lot of trees around it.

"It's beautiful, don't you think, Prongs?"

Said boy only nodded, looking at the other side of the field.

There, surrounded by the other girls, was the lady that haunted his dreams.

He met her during a quidditch match, during his sixth year. He was mesmerized by the color of her eyes and her hair. Her long, long legs and her melodic voice.

Without meaning to, he dropped his drink on her and, instead of screaming with him, she only smiled and said that that could have happened to anyone.

After that, they continued to communicate through letters. They talked about anything and everything and he can safely say that she is the girl that he wants to marry someday. They are both on their seventh year and, the only problem is that she lives in France, while he lives in England.

Oh, not the mention that he doesn't know how she feels about him.

He said something about it in one of his letters. He can't remember what, exactly, because he has a terrible memory, but he is sure that he said something about it.

Besides, when he said that he was going to visit her school, she looked really excited about it.

And now that he is here and she's over there, he can't make his legs move. His palms are sweaty and he can almost hear his heart beating on his chest.

"Oh, so that's the girl."

He looked to his side only to find his best friend ogling his girl.

"Hey!" He slapped Sirius' arm.

"She's really pretty, Prongs."

"I know. Now can you please stop looking at her?"

"No can do."

"Can you guys pay attention, _please_?"

They looked at the captain of their team. Abbott is a nice guy, he really is. But sometimes he can be a real pain in the ass.

"So, as I was saying, Dumbledore asked us to come to Beauxbatons while we wait for the Annual Cup."

The Annual Cup is a championship between the schools around the globe, with the sole purpose to provide more integration between the students. This year, the event will take place in France, hence the reason why the quidditch team is staying at the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

As Abbott is saying something about manners and stuff, James looked at the place where Lily was before, only to find her eyes already staring at him.

She smiled and raised her hand. He did the same and, as he notice how her cheeks are red by the mere wave he gave her, he has the feeling that she feels the same way he does.


	8. Loss

_Written for the Charms Assignment._

 _Task: Write a story that takes place directly after the battle of Hogwart. Focus especially on how the survivors might feel. (E.g.: relieved, guilty, happy, hopeful, sad…)_

 _Extra Prompts:_ _Platonic pairing: NarcissaDraco -_ _Object: shattered statues -_ _Object: blanket -_ _Action: grieving -_ _Word: death_

 _WC: 1015_

* * *

He walks through the corridors, analyzing what's left of the place he used to call home.

He remembers how he used to know each and every wall, every rock, every _soul_ that once lived there.

Now, as he watches the shattered statues in a corner, he can't help but feel as if it's the first time that he steps foot in this place. In this war zone.

Looking outside the window, he sees the destruction left behind.

Finding the place that he was searching for, he enters.

( _He feels a pang in his heart, noticing that the painting that used to ask for a password is no longer there. He doesn't dare wonder where she ran off to._

 _He doesn't need another reason to cry._ )

.

Climbing the stairs is difficult. Not just because of the missing rocks, but because he knows what awaits him at the top of the stairs.

There's an empty place inside his chest and he knows, he _knows_ that he will never feel complete, never again.

But he's willing to try.

( _Only because he knows that that's what she would want him to do._ )

.

Entering the bedroom, he feels a chill running down his spine.

The beds are all torn apart. There's blood and clothes and he thinks that this smell of death and despair will never leave the premises.

He finds a blanket and sits on top of it.

(He doesn't really care where he sits. But the Malfoy in him will always make him do these things, so he does.)

Looking around, he remembers how he and Blaise used to brag about their conquers; when Theo told them that he was dating Tracy and when Adrian told them that he was pining for the older Greengrass.

With a pang in his heart, he remembers when he made love for the first time with his beloved witch.

She was fierce, stubborn and his. Her smile used to lighten up the room she was in and he remembers how he was captivated by it.

He used to hate her. She was a fucking know it all, with that bushy hair and annoying voice.

But then, he received the news that his mother was at St. Mungus and he never felt so lost in his life and, against the odds, she was the one who offered him her support.

.

" _I don't want your pity, Granger."_

" _I'm not here to pity you, Malfoy." She crosses her arms in front of her and he notices how puberty hit her. "I'm here to study and I don't know if it's fate, but you're sitting in my table."_

" _It doesn't have your name written in it."_

" _I don't care. It is mine and I will sit here." She does as she says and opens her book. "So be a really dear boy and be quiet, ok?"_

 _He snorts but stays quiet._

 _Later, he notices that she's not really reading her book and he can feel his heart lowering its defenses._

" _You're not here to study, are you?"_

 _He asks and his voice is so quiet that he wonders if she heard him._

" _No."_

 _She whispers, afraid to break the moment and he nods._

 _He lays his head on the table and for a moment he swears that he felt her hand squeezing his._

 _Maybe it's an illusion, but it made him feel good, so he doesn't question it._

.

After that moment, they used to meet in that table to study and, later, to talk about life.

Who could've guessed that the Gryffindor Princess and the Malfoy Heir would be best friends?

She's smart and sarcastic and makes his heart skip a beat and, on one sunny afternoon he tells her that. She kisses him with so much force that makes his lip bleed.

He remembers all of this with a fond smile on his face.

"Draco?"

He looks to the side, only to find his mother looking at him.

"I was here remembering the first time that Hermione kissed me."

With a sad smile on her face, she crouches in front of her son. "Oh, so she took the initiative?"

With tears on his eyes he smiles because he already told that story to her mother. He knows that she's only indulging him and he loves her more because of that.

"Yeah… She was the one with balls in this relationship."

She squeezes his hand and he can't stop the sob from coming out.

He doesn't like to cry. His father taught him better than that but his mother always had the ability to make him feel more human.

When she sits on the floor and puts his head on her legs, he sobs harder.

.

 _She watches how everyone celebrates quietly._

 _The boy who lived, however, is crouched in front of a body._

 _She notices how his hands are shaking and the amount of tears falling from his eyes._

 _She's used to it by now. She survived both wars and saw so much death, so much evil that this kind of thing no longer affect her._

 _(She should be concerned about this, but she isn't._

 _Like she said, she already lived through so much.)_

 _She watches as they're all looking for they loved ones. How some of them are relieved and some of them are grieving the loss._

 _Looking around, she notices that her son is missing._

 _She finds him walking to the castle._

 _She follows him quietly because she doesn't want to disturb him._

 _(She notices how his shoulders are down and how lost he looks and she feels a tear running down her cheek.)_

 _His uncle Rodolphus tried to kill him and, in a blink of an eye, the muggle girl had thrown herself in front of him, so now she's the one lying lifeless on the ground._

 _She can only imagine how he's feeling._

 _He climbs the stairs of the slytherin quarters and she follows._

 _After a few minutes, she says, "Draco?" and when he answers with a broken voice, she enters because there is nothing else that she rather do._


	9. Lesson

_Written for Gardening lesson._

 _Extra prompts: action - working hard/ object - shovel_

 _wc: 1150_

* * *

"But Daaaaaad," His child whines at him "Why I can't have a cat?"

Sighing, he rubs his temple. Ever since he met Crookshanks, James keeps asking him to get a cat.

"James, I told you already. I don't think you're responsible enough to handle a cat."

He crosses his arms and pouts at him.

As Harry looks around his living room, he has an idea.

"You know what? Grab the shovel that's on the garage, please."

His son has a confused look on his face but complies with his request.

He returns a few minutes later with a shovel that's almost too big for him.

James watches as his dad open the drawer of his desk and takes a little package out of it.

With a hand on his shoulder, Harry guides his oldest outside, towards the garden.

"I don't want you to have a cat yet, because I don't think you truly comprehends what it's like to take care of a living thing." Taking the shovel from his hand, he starts to dig a hole in front of them. "So, this is what we're going to do."

As he finishes the hole, he opens the package and crouches in front of him.

"I'll give you these seeds and you'll have to plant them and take care of whatever this is. If you're able to do this, then I'll think about you having a cat."

James opens a brilliant smile and for a minute Harry considers to just give him the damn cat.

"Give it to me" He opens his small hand and the boy who lived deposits the seeds on it.

The little boy leaves the seeds on the hole and take the shovel from his hand. He covers it with the dirt and, after he finishes it, he smiles at him and Harry feels his love for him only grow.

"You'll see, Daddy."

.

"Daaaaaaaad,"

Harry puts his hand on his head. It's only the third day after he had that stupid idea and his son is about to drive him insane.

"How long do I have to wait?"

He's standing outside his door with a curious look on his face.

"You need to be patient. Just because you want to, doesn't mean that it's going to happen."

"But Dad,"

"Enough, James." He looks at his son with an angry look on his face. "I have a lot to do and I already told you that you need to wait. Understood?"

The boy nods and leaves the study.

Deciding to not feel bad about it, he returns to his work.

.

The next day, Harry spots his son crouched near the place where he planted the seed.

"James? What's wrong?"

"Oh, hi dad." He looks quickly at him and returns his gaze to his "work".

Harry crouches next to him and waits. Like him, his son is not good with words.

"Why it's taking so long?"

With a fond smile, he puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Because it takes time. You stayed in your mom's belly during 9 months before you were born. Things like these, they take time, and you need to be patient."

"And it'll be the same with my cat?"

"Well… Not exactly the same but yeah. You'll need to take care of it, and be patient with it."

His boy nods and they both stare at it for some time.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How did I end up on Mom's belly?"

"GINNY!"

.

"Did you water your plant yet?"

"No."

"Aren't you going to do it?"

The boy huffs and walks outside.

Shaking his head, Harry enters his room.

.

"James, you need to water your plant."

"But I don't want to."

"You have to."

"But I don't _want_ to."

"Fine." Harry nods and leaves his child alone. "When it dies, it's on you."

.

"Look," he hears before he approaches his son "I don't want you to die, so can you please, well, don't die?"

Harry laughs and James throws him a nasty look.

"Rose told me that I have to talk to it to make it feel special. But it's only a plant."

"The point is," Harry picks the watering can and hands over to James "this plant is a living thing, boy. You need to care about it. Maybe not the same way that you care about me, or mom, or your brothers, but you need to be careful with it."

"But _why_?"

Sometimes Harry wonders if James is not Hermione's son. The boy is too curious, for Merlin's sake.

"Because everything that breathes is precious, James. Today is a plant, tomorrow may be your cat, or a dog, or whatever. I want you to learn how to be responsible, how to care, do you understand?"

"Yeah, Dad." He nods and pats the dirt in front of him. "I think I do."

"Good."

.

As he leaves to work the next day, he finds his oldest watering the plant and talking to it. He's working hard and Harry is truly considering the idea of handing him the cat.

He waves at him.

He waves back without taking his eyes of his rose.

.

A few months later, the rose that James planted is big and bright. His petals are red and it's in the middle of their garden, brightening the area around him.

On the other hand, James' not paying that much attention to it like before.

As he shares his concerns to his wife, Ginny's only answers is, "You won't do anything about it. Let him learn with his mistakes."

.

"DAD!"

He jumps as he hears his son screaming outside.

Running like he never did run before, he finds him crying in front of something.

"James? What's wrong?"

"It's dying! The rose is dying!"

Trying to calm his racing heart, he puts his hand on his son's head.

"Do you know why?"

He shakes his head.

"You weren't tending to the rose like before. And now, it's dying and you can't do a thing about it."

"But…"

"I'm sorry, James. But that's how life is."

"Can't you cast a spell and make it live again?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you can't bring anyone back from the dead." He says, with a pang on his heart for an entirely different reason. "What you can do is try to do better next time, okay?"

He nods and looks at his rose again. "I'm sorry."

Harry smiles sadly at him. "I hope you learned your lesson, James."

"Yeah, I think I did."

"Good."

.

Two days later, he finds his son trying to dig a hole outside.

"What are you doing, James?"

"Well…" He pats his hand on his jeans "My rose died and I said to you that I needed to learn my lesson."

Harry nods, waiting for him to continue.

"This is me showing you that I did."

He laughs, because he can't think of anything better to do.


	10. Bike

_Written for Muggles Studies, Task 1, assignment 9._

 _Task 1: Write about a Muggle/Muggleborn/Halfblood teaching a witch or wizard with non or little muggle-knowledge how to drive a car (or bike)._

 _Extra prompts:  
word: traffic  
location: New York._

 _WC: 625_

 _This is UA!, because I like the idea of Draco and Andromeda spending some time together._

* * *

"Look, you have to promise me that you won't tell your dad about this, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Dromeda."

Smiling at him, she picks him up and takes him outside.

X

"This is so cool!"

She laughed at his childish behavior. So different from when he first arrived.

"And the 'eather is really different from home."

"It's _weather_ , Draco." She puts her hand on his shoulder. "And yes, New York is really different from London."

In order to run away from her Mother and everything else, she moved to the States to start a new life. She wanted to get away from everything and everyone that would cause her trouble.

But then, yesterday her sister showed up at her doorstep with Draco right behind her, asking if he could spend a few days with her. When she asked Cissa what was wrong, her only answer was, "you don't want to know."

And by the look on her face, Andromeda knew that she was right.

So, that night, she told Ted about it all and, when he said that the kid deserved some good memories, he kissed him because she couldn't think about anything better to do.

"Where's Uncle Teddy?"

His voice brought her back to reality and she found him standing in front of her.

"He's picking something for you, pumpkin."

"I'm not a pumpkin, Aunt. I'm Draco, son of Lucius Malfoy!"

With a sad smile on her face, she nodded. "Yes, you are."

X

"Okay, kiddo, here's the thing."

When Ted showed him the item, Draco looked at him, confusion written all over his face. "What's this?"

"It's a bicycle!"

Looking at him as if he had grown two other heads, the blonde boy said nothing.

"You don't know what this is?"

"Of course he doesn't, sweetheart." Andromeda says, walking towards them. "Did you forget with whom are you talking to?"

Raising one eyebrow, he finally understands what she's saying.

"Right." Looking at the boy again, he continues, "This is a bike, Draco. It's almost like a… like a broom!"

Draco's face lit up again. "So, I'm going to fly?!"

Rubbing the back of his head, Ted denies it. "Like I said, _almost_."

"Oh." The kid looked at the item again. "And why am I going to use this?"

"Well… To escape traffic, to be healthier, to…" crouching in front of him, the adult puts his hand on the kid's shoulder, "you're not understanding a word that I'm saying, right?"

"No."

"Great."

X

"So,"

Holding Draco by his waist, Ted puts his foot on the pedal. "This is what you're supposed to do, you need to move your leg up, and down, then up, then down, moving this pedals along with it."

"Then I'll go forward?" Draco asked, watching as his uncle moved one of his legs to show him.

"Yes." Taking the kid off of the bike, he puts him on the ground and mounts the bike. "Like this."

Riding the bike that is too small for his size, Ted watches as Draco's grin gets bigger. "It's my turn now!"

"Okay."

Picking him up again, he puts him on the bike just like before.

Holding the handlebars, Ted spots a careful look on his face. "What's wrong?"

Draco looks at him. "What if I fall?"

"I won't let you fall, Draco." Ted answers him softly.

"Promise?"

"I promise"

X

It takes them the whole afternoon but, by the end of the day, Draco can ride the bike for a few seconds by himself.

As she puts him into bed that night, he says, "Thank you, Aunt Dromeda." She

As her heart swell with emotion, she kisses his forehead and answers, "You don't have to thank me, sweetie."

She turns the light off and leaves the room.


	11. Crucio!

_Written for the Arithmancy Class in Hogwarts._

 _Task 1: Write about how "third time's the charm"_

 _AN: I swear I don't know where this came from. I love love love love Bella, and I love love love the Black family._

 _WC: 772_

* * *

They are attacking a small village the first time she tries to cast the spell.

It's her first mission as a Death Eater and she wants to be the best of them all.

She heard Avery saying to the other that she won't be a good Death Eater. She's a woman, she has a weak mind and a weak body so she won't succeed at all. Not only that. He said that she's a disgrace to her family, because she's not a man, the one thing that the Black household needed the most.

She knows that he's right. She knows what everyone whispers on the corridors. When she said that to her mother, her answer was simply.

 _Prove them wrong, Bella._

With a devious glint on her grey eyes, she raises her wand towards a mudblood couple that's running away from her.

"Crucio!"

After a heartbeat, she realizes that nothing is going to happen. The red sparkles that left her wand did nothing but crack and with rage she stormed off the place.

.

She's in Hogwarts the second times she tries to use the curse.

There's a group of students nearby and she heard them, during breakfast. They said that Voldemort doesn't exist, and that somehow the aurors will stop him.

It made her blood boil. Of course her master is real and _of course_ he will win. Who are them to say otherwise?

"Be patient, Black." She heard the older Lestrange say. "It won't do us any good to just curse them in the middle of the hall."

She felt angry again because who this fucker think he is? He just became a death eater – like her – and he thinks that he can give her advice?

So, in order to prove them wrong, she follows the said group during the day. Marking their routine, she'll know when it's the best moment to attack.

Hiding behind a column, she sees that one of the boys is leaving the library.

 _Now_ , she thinks.

She raises her hand again and says, "Crucio!"

The sparkle is bigger this time. But it doesn't harm the boy in any way, so she leaves quietly, just like she came.

.

"What are you doing, my child?"

She looks and spots her mother walking towards her.

They're standing in the garden, watching as the witches and wizards who live nearby walk around.

She considers for a moment the possibility of telling her mother the truth. They are not a common family, that's for sure, but they _are_ a family, after all. She's her mother's favorite; Narcissa, her father's.

(The one that left the family is no one's favorite. Maybe Uncle Alphard, but he'd been burned from the tapestry too so he doesn't count.)

"I can't cast a spell."

"Hm," Her mother hums at her. "Which spell?"

They are standing side by side, Bellatrix being a small version of Druella. Her hair is dark like the night and her eyes are grey, almost white. It'd be a beautiful painting, if the painter ignored the maniacal glint on her eyes.

"Cruciatus." She says matter of fact, as if she's discussing the weather.

"And why is that?"

Her shoulders slumps for a minute. "I don't know."

"What were you thinking when you tried to use it the first time?"

Bellatrix bites her lower lip. "How I wanted to prove them all wrong. I can be a death eater if I want too."

"And the second time?" Druella asks patiently.

"I wanted to punish the boys for saying that Lord Voldemort isn't real."

Her mother nods her head.

"Listen closely, because I'll only say it once." The older says, and Bella raises an eyebrow, never taking her eyes off of the road.

"It may sound confusing, but you need to _want_ to harm the victim. Prove them wrong, punish someone... I know it sounds confusing. When my mother taught me the first time I didn't understand it either." Druella licks her lips before continuing. "They are all valid reasons, but the first reason, the first motive for you to cast this spell is to cause harm to the receiver."

Bella nods her head, understanding her mother's point.

"I see."

"Good." Druella says with her tone hard. "Don't embarrass me again, child."

.

The third time happened during another attack.

She focus on the person and, unlike the other times, she can feel the energy running through her veins.

"CRUCIO!"

When her victim falls to the floor contorting in agony, she has a shit eating grin on her face.

(Little does she knows that, when her mother hears about this, she wears a similar grin too.)


	12. Freedom

_Written for the History of Magic class, assignment 11, task #2: "Write about a painful death (to watch or experience)._

 _Extra prompt: (object) candle_

 _Written for the April Event: Passover 10th - 17th, with extension (thanks Shannon, you're the best!)_

 _Prompt: (word) blood_

 _WC: 1573_

 _A/N 2: As you can see, it's a little AU. Hope you guys like it._

* * *

"You really thought that you're going to get away with this?"

Before he can say anything, everything went black.

.

He opens his eyes for the first time.

Breathing slowly, he turns his head before getting up, to see if he knows where he is.

Everything is dark around him and the only light is coming from a door at the corner of the room.

"Maybe I'm in my house", he thinks, as he gets up from the floor.

"Draco?"

He hears someone calling his name from the cell at his side; he can't see who it is because the walls are made of stone, but the bars are made of some type of metal.

"Theo? Is that you?"

"Yeah mate, it's me." He sounds tired.

"What happened?" The blond asks, trying to remember anything before he ended up here.

"They found out." Theo says and a chill runs down Draco's spine because he knows what he's talking about.

For almost a year he's been acting as a double agent. Being a death eater during the night and a member of the Order during the day. He has been providing information to the Order, trying to end the war.

He thought he was being careful but apparently, they discovered anyways.

"What about Blaise?"

He can hear Theo sighs. "He's on the run. They captured me first, and then they found you. From what I heard, he disappeared from the earth."

Draco releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Thank Merlin." After a second, he says, "Are you alright?"

"I've been better. They tortured me in order to gain information but I didn't say anything."

Draco nods, even though his friend can't see him.

"And now what?"

"Now we wait." Theo says.

.

He doesn't know what day it is.

After that brief conversation with Theo, the Lestrange brothers entered the dungeons and used crucio on him until he lost his voice.

He screamed and screamed and screamed but it never stopped.

He only hoped that his mother is safe. Maybe she's with his father and he's keeping her safe. That was the only thing he could thing about, as Rabastan threw another spell on him.

That, and how Hermione is doing.

They started a relationship a few months after he started to help them. She's stubborn and he's persistent and, in the end, she was the one who kissed him first.

As the door to dungeons open and he sees his aunt Bella entering the place, his last thought before he clears his mind is that he's in love and he'll die before he can say anything to her.

.

"Mate?"

He hears Theo but he doesn't have the strength to answer him.

Instead of just using Crucio on him, which is her specialty, Bellatrix tortured him physically, using muggle (how ironic) ways to make him talk.

First, she chained him to the ceiling and used a whip on his back. Then, she released him, only to hold a candle above his mark and burn it.

He knows what pain feels like. This is so much more.

At first, he wanted to leave.

"I'm here."

Now, as his eyes closes, he just want to die.

.

He's starving.

His head hurts and his wounds are infected. There's not one spot on his body that doesn't hurt. His arms are burned and his legs are shaking and he's sure that he has about 3 broken ribs.

But he'll not break. He'll not-

"Hello my dear nephew."

He opens his eyes and sees that his aunt is there.

"As you know, I was searching for your friend Blaise." She says, pulling him up. "You can't help me and your friend can't help me but look who I found!"

She moves to the side and he sees the Lovegood girl unconscious on the floor.

"I found her during one of the rounds and I thought "I think my dear nephew will like to see his friend one last time!""

One last time. These words leaves a bitter taste on his mouth.

"So I hope you're ready because I found some new toys that I really want to play with."

He uses the bars to support his body weight and watches as Bellatrix straps the girl's arms to a piece of wood.

"Oh no." He hears Theo murmurs as he watches the older woman straps Lovegood's legs.

He doesn't have the strength to question what's going on but he doesn't need to imagine any longer.

Bellatrix holds her wand near the wheel located next to the place where the Gryffindor is and says, "During the last round I found these new toys, like I said before. They're muggle artifacts used during medieval times to torture and eventually kill the prisoner."

With a non-verbal spell she makes the wheel turn, waking Lovegood up and dropping some things that she had on her pocket.

"At first I thought how do I use this shit." Another non-verbal spell and this time, Luna screams her lungs out. "Then I did some research and I discovered!"

She turns it again and Draco is certain that the girl screams will haunt him at night.

"They used it to- oh hell, I'll just show it to you boys."

With a cold high pitched laugh, she turns the wheel non stop, making Luna scream and cry, pulling her members apart.

He watches, with a bitter taste on his mouth, as the machine pulls her members from her body, leaving a lifeless corpse surrounded by blood around her.

"Nice, isn't it?" Bellatrix says, as she cleans her face. "This is what I'll do to you and your friend, dear nephew, if you don't give the information that I want."

She uses cruciatus on him some more. Then, turning to Theo, she repeats the spell on him.

"Bye bye!"

His body aches and in the silence, he can still hear Luna's screams echoing on the room.

.

He wakes up as he hears Theo screaming next to him.

It's Avery and Mulciber this time. They are torturing his friend, wanting to know where the damn Blaise and the resistance are.

Theo doesn't say a word, so they used crucio on him some more.

"Oh, you awake boy?"

They turn to Draco, with a devious glint on their eyes.

"Bella did a nice job on you, eh?"

He swallows hard. He doesn't have the strength to do much more.

"Well, we're here to continue the job. I hope we do her justice because let's face it, that bitch can be cruel when she wants." Avery says, turning his neck from one side to another. "But lets keep this a secret, alright?"

He blinks and before he knows it, Mulciber casts a spell on him that makes his skin burn. Avery just watches, waiting for his turn.

He screams again because it hurts like hell.

"First, we'll kill your friend here. Then, we'll find the resistance and kill each and every one of them. Then we'll find your family, bunch of traitors you are, then we'll kill you all. How does that sound?"

As they torture him some more, he decides that enough is enough. He really needs to escape this hell.

.

"Draco?"

He thinks he's dreaming, so he doesn't bother to wake up.

"Draco?"

This time, warm hands cradled his face and he briefly considers to open his eyes, only to decide against it.

It's a nice dream so he doesn't want to wake up.

"Please Draco, I really need you to open your eyes."

The voice is clear. He knows this voice, he loves this voice.

"Granger?"

His voice is rough from the lack of use and because of all the screaming he did not so long ago.

"Yeah, it's me. Please wake up."

He opens his eyes and his eyes hurt from the sudden light.

"Where am I?"

"You're still here at the dungeons at the Malfoy Mannor, but we found you."

He blinks one, two, three times until he can see his beloved witch clearly.

"How- how did you find me?"

She brushes his bangs away from his face and continues, with tears on her eyes.

"When they captured Luna, she activated the mirror we used to communicate with each other and kept it on her pocket."

He looks inside her eyes and his face softens. "You heard it?"

She shakes her head. "No. But I can imagine what happened."

"I'm so sorry." He says and he means it.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." She blinks back her tears and continues. "Anyway, we used a spell to try to find her location and we did it-"

"When they did it, the proud Gryffindors asked for my help. Can you believe it, mate? They asked for the help of a Slytherin!"

He cracks a smile as he hears Blaise's voice behind Hermione.

"You're okay." Draco says and Blaise drops the smirk from his face.

He hears as Porter explains to Theo that the war is not over, but they're close. With the fall of the Manor, the Death Eaters don't have many places to hide, anymore.

But he can't focus on anything besides Granger and Blaise.

"Yeah." Blaise nods and crouches next to Hermione. "And now that you're free, you're going to be okay too."

He closes his eyes and this time, he's not afraid of when he's going to open them up again.


	13. Five

_Written for the Elemental Magic Class in Hogwarts._

 _Task:_ _Include the importance of the number five into your story. Use the number #5 as a recurring symbol in your story. (e.g. the symbol of a Pentagram, 5 candles, 5 people etc… be creative)_

 _Extra Prompts: word - soul; object - vintage dress_

 _Written for the May Event, Flower Picking Season._

 _C2/Sunflower - (word) leisure_

 _At the last part, I've taken the dialogues from the encounter between Dumbledore and Voldemort, when he asks the Headmaster to teach DADA in Hogwarts. It's on chapter 20 from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince._

 _WC: 984_

 _I don't own Harry Potter._

* * *

 **i.**

You look at the door in front of you.

Looking at the clock on the wall, you see that you arrived early. Crossing your hands on the table in front of you, you nod your head towards the waiter, ordering a drink on this cold, cold night.

As you wait, you look outside.

The snow is falling hard and there's not a soul outside the place. It's dark, making it impossible to see your palm in front of your face.

The waiter leaves your drink in front of you at the same time the door of the place opens.

 **ii.**

You spot one of your allies sitting at the far end of the bar.

He ordered some expensive scotch and you can't hold the scoff.

"I'm glad to see some things never change." You raise your hand to the bar, ordering your drink. You sit in front of him and stare into his dark eyes. "How long have you been here, Dolohov?"

"Not long," he doesn't continue and you don't care. You keep your hands inside your pocket, trying to keep them warm. "Have you heard from the others?"

You shake your head no, at the same time the waiter puts your drink on the table. You nod your head, never taking your eyes of your companion.

He isn't a man of many words. Which is ironic because he likes to ask first and then kill the victim. Yes, it's in the torture of the less fortunate that he finds himself. He's a killer with enough leisure to practice his… art. So he can take his time to enjoy his hobby.

You take a sip of your drink as the clock strikes eleven. You look around the bar and see that it's almost empty. _This is a filthy place,_ you think. But when _he_ asked you to come here you didn't argue because you know better.

"Hello, old friends."

 **iii.**

You smirk as you see the look on Dolohov and Nott's faces. They were lost on their own world and didn't see you coming.

"Missed me?"

"Shut up, Mulciber." Nott says, moving his chair a little to the side.

"You hurt my feelings, acting like this, Nott." You put your hand over your heart as the waiter brings you the usual.

"You need to have a heart to have feelings, Mulciber." Dolohov says, ordering another drink for him.

"Better yet," Nott raises his glass and, before drinking, he continues, "you need to have a _soul_."

You smirk at him and clings your glass with his. "How are we on this fine night, gents?"

"Same old, same old." Dolohov says, looking outside.

You noticed that he ordered another drink but didn't touch it.

"Nothing much," you say as Nott pick his nails. "Today I almost killed the stupid guy from the bank."

"Why didn't you?" You ask, playing with your glass.

"There were witness." He answers and you hear a guttural laugh behind you.

 **iv.**

You pull a chair and sits with your companions.

"See, that's the difference between us, Nott." You take your flask out of your coat and drink. "I don't really care about witness."

"That's because you're crazy, Rosier."

"And that's a bad thing, because…?"

Dolohov looks at you with his dark eyes and you feel like he's reading your mind. "Because the crazier ones gets killed first."

"Not if I don't get caught." You drink again and Mulciber looks at you with his blue eyes.

"Where were you, anyway?"

"Well, _he_ said that it might take some time for him to get back, so I decided to have some fun." You scratch your chin. "There was this party in the mudblood district and I had to check it out."

They are all looking at you know. "The women were wearing some vintage dresses and this disco music was playing in the background. Something about _stayin' alive_ , I think."

Dolohov smirks at your joke and Nott shakes his head. Mulciber orders another drink.

Suddenly, the atmosphere at the room changes. It gets colder even with the windows all closed. You all straighten up and wait.

 **v.**

You look at them before entering the room.

" _Then if I were to go to the Hog's Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempt to secure a teaching post._ "

You hear his voice on your head and clenches your fist.

That stupid old man. How dare he deny you the position?

You enter the bar and the four of them looks expectantly at you.

" _I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants_."

You approach the table and you look each of them in the eye.

Dolohov, Nott, Mulciber and Rosier. Yes, you are strong. Stronger that all of them combined. But even you need to admit that you will need their help on your… _crusade_.

"Good evening, gentleman."

As Nott starts to stand up you raise your hand. He sits again and you pull a chair near the table.

"As you may have notice, my plans have failed." You say, with your eyes closed.

"Dumbledore didn't accept your _offer,_ Lord Voldemort?" Rosier asks, looking down.

"No, he didn't." You don't say much because it's none of their business.

However as you hear a noise behind you, you spot the bartender cleaning some glasses.

The four of them follow you line of sight and with an evil smirk, you stand up.

" _Oh no, merely friends with the bartender._ "

"Tonight, gentleman," You say quietly but with authority. "Tonight, is the night it all starts."

You turn towards the bartender, with your four men behind you.

It's really dark outside. The wind is blowing and the snow is falling and the screams echoes on the street.


	14. Six Years

_Written for Transfiguration, task 2 - Write an AU where a person has left the wizarding world and_

 _ii. or unexpectedly meets an old friend/family member after several years (min. 5)._

 _WC: 616_

* * *

"Oh crap, I'm so sorry!"

Harry looks at the cup of coffee on his feet. The thing fell on his shoe, ruining it, evidently. But he can't exactly blame the man who he had runned into. He was the one looking at his phone.

As he raises his head to tell the man exactly that, he thanks Merlin that he doesn't have the cup on his hand, anymore. Because if he did, he'd have thrown the content on his face.

"Ron?!"

The red haired man looks at his former best friend and exclaims, "Harry!"

He hugs the boy who lived who, in return, after a few seconds of complete shock, reciprocates it.

"How—What—"

"It amazes me how eloquent you can be, Harry." Ron pats his friend on his shoulder, laughing at him.

Harry shows him his middle finger. "Says the guy who used to solve his problems screaming and throwing tantrums."

Ron's ears turn red at the comment.

"So, now that you've spilled all my coffee, care to buy me another cup so we can catch up?"

The boy who lived notices how Ron clenches his right hand.

"I mean, only if you don't have anything—"

Shaking his head, Ron answers, "Sure! Let's go inside this coffee shop so I can buy you another one."

Harry enters the place and go sit in a booth at the far end of the place. He watches Ron from where he's sitting and he notices how he's nervously taping his foot on the ground.

Ron, on the other hand, is wondering if maybe, just maybe, things can go back to what they used to be. If they'll ever be okay.

After a few minutes, he returns with two cups of coffee and sits in front of Harry.

"So, what have you been up to?" Ron asks and Harry looks startled at him.

"What _I_ have been up to? Ronald, you disappeared for six _years_! What happened, for Merlin's sake?"

Ron shrugs, looking anywhere but at Harry, making the latter curious about it. He wonders if it's too late to take back the question. It's been six years, after all.

"It was too much."

For the second time, Harry doesn't know what to say. For a moment, he thought that Ron wasn't going to answer him. But he replies quietly, making Harry's heart break a little.

"After the war, after everything we lost… I just…" He trails off and Harry only nods at him.

His former best friend lost too much. First George died, then Arthur, Charlie and Molly. Fred, unable to cope with their deaths, drowned himself on alcohol and painkillers and is now locked in a facility to deal with his addictions. Gina is doing the best she can but, at night, Harry can hear her crying.

"I'm so sorry, mate."

Ron smiles at him. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Harry."

"I know." Harry says and puts his hand on his arm "But I still am."

"Do you think… I mean, maybe—"

"Who doesn't know what to say now?" Harry smirks at Ron who, in turn, flips his middle finger at him.

"I was wondering if maybe I can come back with you. You know, to see everyone else."

He's playing with the spoon that came with the coffee.

"Do you even have to ask?" Harry's smile is brighter than the sun and Ron tries to hold back some tears.

"So," The redhead starts, looking curiously at Harry "I heard that there's a ferret with bushy hair among us. Is that true?"

Harry howls in laughter and Ron looks at him with mirth.

It'll take time but yes, things will be okay.


	15. Changes

_Written for the Careers Advice Class at the Hogwarts Forum._

 _Task: There are many different career options, some more popular than others. Auror, Healer and Professor are among the most popular, so for this assignment, I would like you to look at some of the less common careers. Take a career from the following list and base your story on a character taking up that career._

 ** _Careers used: Bar Maid and Obliviator_**

 _Extra Credit: You will receive 20 points extra credit if you write about a character in a job setting they do not have in canon. For example, if you write about someone other than Ollivander being a wandmaker, or Rosmerta being a bar maid, or Charlie being a dragonologist, etc etc._

 _(Extra Credit completed.)_

 _WC: 1817_

* * *

The bar is filled with sounds as she pours another drink for the customer in front of her.

It's a busy night, with a bachelorette party going on and the usual customers around.

Her brown eyes analyzes the space, cataloguing every face, every moment. Even though the war ended two years ago, some habits die-hard. Especially if you've been involved in a war against the cruelest wizard the world has even seen.

And that's the reason why she always make sure she knows every face, every corner, every exit from the places that she's in. You are never too prepared.

So, after her lookout, she rests her back against the shelves behind her and, folding her arms across her chest, she waits as the night goes on.

X

That's the thing about pubs. Even though every night is pretty much the same, not a day goes by that something out of the blue happens.

Little did she know that today is one of those days.

x

It's late when a guy in a black coat enters the bar.

"I'll have a scotch, please."

She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A chill runs down her spine at the sound of that voice.

She raises her head and, from her spot, she can see the man that made her years in Hogwarts a living hell sitting casually on a stool. The man that, all of a sudden, changed sides during the war, helping them win.

He's talking with another waiter at the end of the bar. His hair is longer now, his bangs almost covering his eyes. His hands are big and he doesn't play with the things in front of him. He keeps them still, waiting for his drink to arrive. He looks bulkier than she remembers. He used to be a defined but scrawny kid back in the day. Now, she can almost see the lines of his muscles over his shirt.

When he changed sides during the war, they developed some sort of friendship. Despite their first encounter, when he used to be acid and she used to be distrustful, they made some sort of truce, since they both have an amazing intellect and quick thinking.

And, they are both objective and can separate the emotions when they have to. So, they discovered that they could rely, at least to some extent, in each other.

She must have been staring for long time because, next thing she knows, he moving to sit in front of her.

"Granger?"

His voice is grave, probably from the lack of use, and his eyes are curious. "What are you doing here?"

She moves to be near him, folding her arms protectively across her chest before answering, "I work here, Malfoy."

Against her expectations, he only nods, thanking the waitress that delivered his drink.

She cleans the glasses at the bar, just to keep her hands occupied. He is having a sip of his drink and is looking around when she asks, "What about you? What are you doing here?"

He puts his glass down, "After the war I decided to be an obliviator. Voldemort did more harm than we imagined. He had this places where he kept muggles and squids and everything that he didn't agree with and tortured the living soul out of this people. I'm helping the people around the world to erase the memory of these people."

Her heart squeeze painfully on her chest. It's been two years but the legacy of Voldemort's terror still exists.

She clears her throat and, as she plays his words again, a thought enters her mind. "Wait. Are you an obliviator now? Because when I left, you're aiming to be a mediwizard."

He nods, finishing his drink. He doesn't ask for another one, but she serves him anyway.

"Yes, that is correct." His look is sullen and he looks older than he really is. "But I can't forget what happened with me. I can't just erase my memory, even though on some days, that's exactly what I want to do."

He stops and she can't help but agree with him. There are good days. Days when she's grateful for meeting this amazing and magical world, that gave her a sense of belonging, along with friends that she now considers as family.

But on the bad days, when the memories are too hard and the nightmares are more real than she likes to admit, she wishes that she could just make it all go away.

A look of understanding passes between his eyes. He knows that she understands him all too well.

"So," he drinks again, "Even though I can't forget, I decided that I wanted to make the ones that don't necessarily need to live with this burden to forget. To help them move on with their lives, I think."

She pours a glass of wine for herself, noticing that, because of the hour, the bar is almost empty.

"Well, a toast to you, that proves that people can change, after all."

He chuckles at that, but clings his glass with hers, drinking his scotch.

"Now," he says and she can fell his grey eyes analyzing her soul, "Are you going to tell me why you are a bar maid in a bar in Scotland?"

"Is that judgment that I'm hearing?" She asks, trying to avoid the question.

He shrugs. "No, just curiosity. You don't have to tell me if you don't want, though."

If it was any other person dismissing her explanation, she would scoff at them and call their bluff. But she knows Malfoy, at least a part of him, and she knows that he means it, when he says the he doesn't care if she answers or not. He knows, better than anyone else, how some matters are private, concerning only the ones involved in them.

And, if she's being honest with herself, it warms her heart a little, to know that he's giving her an out.

"I couldn't take it, anymore."

Her voice is so quiet that he thinks, for a brief second, that he'd imagined it.

He raises his eyes and tries to look inside her brown ones. They are looking ahead, without really seeing what's in front of her.

"Hey," He whispers, afraid to break the moment, "I was being serious. You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

Her smile is empty and it pangs him to see it because her smiles are always so full of joy and happiness that brightens a room.

"I know." She's playing with her glass, biding her time.

He waits patiently, because he knows that sometimes that's all you can do for a person.

"When it ended," Her voice sounds detached, but he knows better, "I stayed behind and helped them to rebuild everything."

He remembers all too well. Everyone was broken, so broken, that she took the responsibility to herself to put everything back in order.

Now, as he stops to thinks about it, he wonders if anyone else offered her a hand. Looking at her lost eyes and sad smile, he knows that no, nobody else did.

When a waiter approaches him, she just shakes her head, and says, in few words, that she'll close the bar and that they could go home.

The door closes behind the ones that left, leaving the two of them alone.

She pours herself another glass and puts his scotch bottle on the bar.

"I never took the time to deal with my pain. To heal my wounds, both physically and emotionally. And, as we know, everything that we do has its consequences."

She holds her glass and closes her eyes for a moment.

As she gathers her thoughts, he stops to look at the woman in front of him.

Her skin is peachy, looking soft to the touch. Her hands are small, delicate, but he is well aware of how powerful they are with a wand in them. She's petite. He's positive that her head doesn't reach his shoulders. But, what he likes most about her is that her actual size is not on her outside, but on her inside. Her intelligence amazes him. He's a Slytherin so, ever since birth, he has been taught to plan, to analyze every detail and expect every possible outcome of a situation. On the other hand, she's a Gryffindor. She was supposed to act using her emotions but she's proves him wrong, always thinking before acting.

She would've been a great Slytherin, he thinks.

"I couldn't sleep, anymore." He startles as he hears her voice. "I had nightmares that kept me awake at night. I can't be in a crowded place and loud noises scares me."

She lists her symptoms and he only watches as she takes another sip of her drink.

"I developed survivor's guilt and the therapy and the fact that everyone knew me and talked with me and couldn't let me breath finally took its toll on me. So, I left."

He nods, unable to do anything else.

"Like you said, we can forget what happened to us," she looks at him and she looks more like herself now, "But we can do something to protect ourselves… I think we earned that right, don't you think?"

If it was anyone else, he would say that the person is being selfish. But if there's one thing that Hermione Granger isn't, is selfish. So he only smirks at her.

"Yes, I do."

"So," She cleans the bar, putting behind their bottles and picking their glasses and putting them on the sink behind her, "I left it all behind and moved here to Scotland, to try and start again."

She says it casually, but he can tell that she's still hurting.

Deciding to not pry anymore, he waits as she turns the light off.

He leaves the bar and looks around, noticing how quiet the streets are at this time of the night.

He feels her hand on the small of his back and he turns.

"You never did tell me why you decided to work in a bar."

She leans her back on the wall behind her. He copies her movement.

"I never liked to be in the center, you know?" He nods, and she continues, "And I miss routine."

He looks surprised at her. "I thought you were going to give me long list of motives as to why you decided to choose this path."

"I was, but it's late and I'm kind of tired."

He chuckles at her.

"So, I'll guess I'll see you—"

"Tomorrow." He finishes for her and she can't hold the gasp that escapes her lips.

He shrugs, "I miss routine, too."

There's a glint of mischief on his grey orbs and she laughs.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

They smile at each other before parting ways.

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


	16. Want

_Written for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, at Hogwarts._

 _Task: Write about someone using the Crutiatus Curse and why he/she does it. Please try to also focus on their thoughts and emotions while casting the curse._

 _Extra prompt: (word) Twilight_

 _WC: 802_

 _A/N: There's one sentence that made me laugh out loud. Twilight, Bella... You'll see HAHAHA._

 _I don't own HP *sighs*._

* * *

He watches as his aunt cast the curse.

"CRUCIATUS!"

The muggle before them falls to the ground, screaming in pain.

"See, boy?" She smirks, never taking her eyes off her prey. "This is how you use Crucio. You need to feel magic, you need to want to hurt the other person."

His grey blue eyes looks mesmerized at the sight before him. The muggle, who's not that much older than him, screams in pain, with blood coming out of his mouth.

They are behind an alley. The streets are empty because the Ministry declared that they were no longer safe, now that the Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban.

Now, as he watches how Bella is torturing the boy, he can't help but think that they are right.

"Draco? Are you even paying attention to me?"

She slaps his arm, hard, and sees when he flinches.

"You need to toughen up your act, dear nephew." She stops the curse, letting the poor boy breathe. "Otherwise you won't survive in this world."

He directs his gaze to her.

His aunt is not the woman she used to be. She's still a beautiful woman. But the years that she stayed inside that prison took its tool on her. She looks old. Before, she had those crazy but calculating eyes. Now, just by looking at them, they are still as crazy and calculating as ever. However, one can tell that she has seen too much already.

He's taller than her but that doesn't make her any less intimidating.

"Are you ready to try?" She asks with a cold voice.

He looks at the struggling boy at his feet.

Feeling the magic running through his veins, he says, "Crucio!"

Some red sparkles leaves his wand, but not enough.

His aunt scoffs behind him. "You need to want to hurt him. That's the secret behind this spell. It's not about how strong you are, but how much you're willing to hurt the victim."

She walks in front of him and, with a devious smirk, she says, "Crucio!"

The boy screams again, louder this time.

"His body is already damaged from the first time, so it's more painful now."

Draco holds his wand with more force than necessary. When she stops, he tries again.

"Crucio!"

Again, nothing happens.

In the twilight, Bella decides to end their practice.

"I'm tired," she says, putting her hand over Draco's shoulder. It startles him because it's the first time her aunt did something so... caring, "let's end this and return. We can try again tomorrow."

He slumps his shoulders as she kills the boy.

"When you're ready, you'll be able to perform this magic. You'll feel the power running through your veins, knowing that you're capable to hurt someone so much. But that's a lesson for another day. Come, otherwise Cissa will kill me for leaving you out here at night."

They walk towards the apparition spot, never once looking back.

 **x**

It's years later when it happens.

The war is almost over. He switched sides when he realized that he'd gain nothing by remaining at Voldemort's side and, even though he had a change of heart, he's still a Malfoy and he has his best interests at heart.

He helps Hermione to sit. She had been captured during an ambush and he came, along the others, to rescue her.

They started something soon after he joined her side. He's not ready to call it love, but he knows that he's close to it.

Especially when he saw Bellatrix torturing her.

"My my, look at you, dear nephew!"

Her voice is rough and she has blood coming out of her mouth. He surprised her when he entered the dungeons that Hermione was being held captive and disarmed her, casting one of the many curses that he learned when he was a Death Eater.

He's much taller now. Almost two heads taller than his aunt. He's bulkier and his blue-grey eyes are more cold, more detached. He lived through hell and he survived, but not without some scars.

"I guess you're ready, eh?"

He knows what she's talking about. It makes him sick, to see that she's smiling even though she knows what he'll do to her.

He raises his arm and he can almost hear his heart thumping loud on his chest. He can feel the magic running through his veins. The blood boiling beneath his skin.

When he's ready, his heartbeat slowdown. It's not like how she said it would be. He remembers her saying that he'd feel powerful, but the only thing that he feels is sorrow. Not regret. Never regret.

His voice is collected and low, when he says, "Cruciatus."

She squirms under his spell and, as he hears her laughter, he wonders if that's what she wanted all along.

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated._


	17. Give up

_Written for the Magical Law & Government class in Hogwarts (My oh my, it's good to be back!)_

 _Law Task: Write about someone with Lycanthropy finding work._

 _Restriction: Do not write about Remus working at Hogwarts_

 _WC: 555_

 _I don't own HP *sighs*_

* * *

When she was a child, her mother used to say, altering the popular saying, that nothing good would come to those who give up.

Or something like that.

Now, she's almost 25 with a huge scar on her arm and crushed dreams.

She's leaving what must be the fifth place that "politely" refused to hire her. They claimed that she didn't have the required skillset for the job.

And that's bullshit. Because she knows better.

The second wizard war ended almost seven years ago. They fought hard and for a long time. They won, in the end, but not without some casualties.

Her heart still hurts when she thinks about Fred, the Patil sisters, Molly, Dean… She loved them oh so very much.

She looks to her arm, as she remembers what caused the scar.

During the fight against Greyback, Remus and Bill were at disadvantage and she decided to help. She casted a spell against him, to try and get his attention as the other two prepared what would be the last blow.

But before he died, he bit her arm, transferring to her his curse.

" _I don't exactly know how you feel," she looks to her side to find Ron looking at her with a mix of adoration and uncertainty. This kind of peep talks it's not his strongest suit, "but you know that what happened with you doesn't change how I feel about you right, Lavender?"_

 _She unties the bun and let her bold hair fall around her shoulder, as she crawls over him on their bed. His blue eyes nearly popped out of his head as she pressed her body closer to him. But he caught up with her pretty quick, resting his hands on her hips, before kissing her._

 _Her warm hazel eyes met his blue ones and she said, with all the love that she could muster, "I love you, Ron. So, so much."_

She's smiling as she walks the sideway. Knowing that she has a wonderful man just like Ron waiting for her certainly makes everything more bearable. But they need to eat and even though he wins a very good money playing for the Cannons, she wants to help too.

When she first try to apply for her dream job at the Ministry, they said that the spot had been fulfilled, only to Hermione tell her, later, that no, it was still open. Being the person that she is, she offered to give them a piece of her mind. Lavender refused, saying that it's not her battle to fight.

Ever since then, she's been receiving no after no.

And only because she's a werewolf. A survivor, yes. A fighter, definitely. But mostly, a werewolf.

" _Will it stop hurting, Remus?" She asked one day, crying on the porch of his house._

 _He puts his hand on her shoulder, with a sad, sympathetic smile on his face. "No."_

She rubs her arms, not because she's chilly, but because she's tired. She's tired of the rejection, tired of feeling like she had done anything wrong. All she wants is a job, a purpose, something to do with her life.

 _Nothing good come to those who give up_.

Yes. With a shy smile she remembers her mother's words.

Opening the door in front of her, she enters.

(She got the job.)

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


	18. Crib

_Written for the Charms assignment at the Hogwarts forum: Task #2: Write about someone who doesn't want to be seen._

 _Written for the November Event: Newt Scamander suitcase. Extra prompt: Lily Evans._

 _WC: 446_

 _I don't own Harry Potter *sighs*_

* * *

She wakes up startled.

There's noise coming from the other room and she's sure that she closed all the windows.

Turning to her side, she realizes that James is nowhere to be seen. He sent an owl to her, telling her that he would have to stay at the Ministry to fill some paperwork because of his latest mission, so he would arrive late.

So it's up to her to protect her home.

Picking her wand from the nightstand, she tightens her robe around her - she needs to buy another one, soon. Her baby boy is growing and her belly is getting larger.

Tiptoeing out of her bedroom, she walks towards the noise. The door to the other room is slightly open and she can hear muffled voices coming from inside.

She ties her hair on a ponytail and prepares to fight. This is her home, her family, and she'll be damned if she let anything happen.

Peeking inside the room, she spots a familiar mop of black hair.

"You need to be quiet, Padfoot!" Her husband whispers at his longtime friend.

"I'm doing the best I can, dear Prongs, but it was your idea to set the crib at night."

She keeps quiet and close to the wall, deciding to not let them see her.

"Look," he runs his hand over his hair and she can't help but smile fondly at the action, "Lily's been really tired, reaching the third trimester and all that, and I want to surprise her. And because the mediwitch said that she needed to stay home, this is the only time I get to do this."

Sirius exhales slowly, looking at the mess in front of him. "I know that you'd do anything for her and believe me, I'd do too, but this is impossible. Why can't we just use magic?"

James eyes the crib in front of him before answering. "Because I promised her that we would do the muggle way."

Lily puts her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. Trust him to keep his promise even when she's not around - or that's what he thinks.

Shaking her head, she directs her green eyes at the pair in front of her.

She loves them both so much. It's a different type of love, but it's love all the same and her heart melts.

And to think that there was a time when she couldn't stand them.

Giving them one last smile, she decides to let them be.

Walking slowly to her bedroom, she silently closes the door, and lays on her bed.

With a warm feeling spreading through her body, she drifts off to sleep.


	19. Rescue

_Written for the swimming class in Hogwarts._

 _Task: Butterfly - write about a partnership_

 _WC: 909_

 _I don't own HP._

* * *

Harry walks inside the room as if he's a caged animal without no way out.

The war is raging outside. An informant told them that the Death Eaters were planning an attack against Hogsmeade, so they all gathered there in order to avoid it.

During the battle, Hermione had been kidnapped.

He knows that they won't kill her, at least not yet. They will torture her in exchange for information first, then try to use her as bargain.

It makes him sick as he wonders what kind of things they will do to her.

"I can help."

He turns to the sound of the voice.

Draco Malfoy is leaning against the doorstep, his blonde hair falling over his grey eyes. Draco is a tall, strong man, but the war took its tool on him. He's thinner with bags under his eyes.

During the war, he decided to act as a double agent. Once a Death Eater, he found himself disgusted with what he was doing, so he decided to help them.

He doesn't know the details of it, but Hermione trusts him and for Harry, that's enough.

"I know where they are keeping her." He continues as Harry throws a distrustful look at him. "I can help you."

"It's a suicidal mission." Harry says, gripping his wand with so much force that he's afraid it might break.

"I know."

"They will know that you're helping us." Harry continues.

"I know."

"Why?" Dropping any pretenses, the boy who lived asks.

Draco shrugs, moving closer to him. "Because..." Harry watches as he looks anywhere but him. "Because she is a valuable asset to the team."

Even Harry can tell that what he said is bullshit. Sure, Hermione is a valuable asset and he's sure that they won't be able to win the war without her, but try as he might, Draco can't hide the emotion behind his voice.

"I remember you, during our duel lessons," Draco says, "you're quick but speed won't help you. They are merciless, which is something that you're not. And I can't go in there alone."

"You are trusting me to have your back?" Harry says, surprised.

"Granger trusts you to have hers." He says as if it explained everything. And in a way, it does. "So I trust you to have mine."

"And you're going to kill them? Just like that?"

Draco turns his grey eyes at him and Harry can feel a chill running down his spine. "Just like that. Unlike you, I'm not afraid of having blood on my hands."

Harry wants to shake his head, wants to say that it's wrong and that he shouldn't do that.

Instead, he only nods. Merlin knows what Draco has done before joining them.

"So I guess it's us against the world, huh?" He tries to crack a joke, in vain.

"I guess it is."

 **X**

The mission was, against the odds, fairly simple.

The dungeon where Hermione was being held captive was empty, save from one Death Eater - Harry couldn't name him - that died quickly under Draco's power.

They spotted her on the last cell at the far corner of the room. Harry was keeping guard because, according to Draco, if they could avoid reveling that Draco had changed sides, at least for now, it would be a winning point for them.

She was awake but there were bruises on her fairly creamy skin. Her hair was all over the place and she looked drained.

"Hey guys." She says in a weak voice and Harry smiles with relief.

"I guess you'd seen better days huh." He hears Draco says in a low voice as the cell opens.

"I missed you too."

Harry is glad that he has his back facing them. He feels as if they are having a private moment and he wonders again what's going on between them.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and he instantly grins as he sees his best friend.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He says as he engulfs her in a bear hug.

"I knew you would come." She says, hugging him tighter.

He nods, unable to say anything else.

"I hate to break the reunion but we have to go." The slytherin says in a indifferent voice, looking to end of the corridor. "I have a feeling that they will be back soon."

The other two nods and, as Hermione uses Harry as support, they walk outside, ready to leave this hell.

 **X**

"So," Hermione says, lying on her bed. Molly treated her wounds and decided that it would be best if she rest. "You and Draco working together huh?"

"Yeah, well," Harry scratches the side of his head. "I needed someone to help me rescue you. The others, even though they wanted to save you, didn't want to put anyone in danger, so I needed to do it by myself. And, in reality, he was the one who volunteered to go with me."

"I see." She answers and Harry can see that she has something on her mind.

"Did you like the experience?" She asks in a soft voice.

Harry considers it for a moment. They planned and Draco explained to him what might happened and, as he stops to considers it, not once did he doubt the man.

"Actually, I did." He answers it, sincerely, and he means it. "I'm glad that we have him on our side."

And he really is.


	20. Starting Over

_Written for the Muggle Media class._

 _Elf: Write about reconnecting with estranged relatives._

 _Extra prompt: (object) mistletoe_

 _WC: 648_

* * *

"Hello."

Harry jumps at the sound of the voice.

He's sitting on a bench, watching as one if his sons plays in the park. He's running around with Hermione and Draco's boy, playing a muggle game and he's just sitting there, enjoying his coffee and keeping an eye on them.

Turning his green eyes towards the one person he thought he would never see again, he replies. "Hi."

The blond woman nods, holding her cup more firmly on her hand. "Mind if I sit here?"

He shakes his head, moving to the side.

She sits and he eyes her discreetly. She doesn't look like her mother, not one bit. Her hair is blond, not like the sun, more like sand and she has blue eyes. Her nose is big and she doesn't have any freckle on them.

And yet, he remembers her smile. Sometimes, when he was little, he caught her smiling at something and it panged his heart because it almost looked like his mother's smile.

Almost.

"Bet you're wondering what I am doing here."

"Actually, I'm wondering how the hell do you remember me."

Her smiles dims and she looks ahead. "I don't know the details of it. But a woman with black hair and grey eyes appeared on my doorstep one day and she did some, well, magic on me, and I remembered everything."

Harry tries to temper his anger. Andromeda didn't have to meddle on his business. Especially with someone who wanted to see him dead.

"At first, I yelled at her because I didn't want to remember any of it. I hated you, and I hated my sister and… Well, you know what was like. You were there."

He nods, and decides against saying anything. She's here for a reason and he will let her do whatever it is that she wants to.

At least for now.

"And then… Then she told me her story." She swallows hard, and Harry can feel his anger towards his cousin dissipating. "It really is a sad story but, in a way, it's similar to ours."

He sips his coffee because he agrees with her.

"I hated my sister for so long, just because I couldn't see how special she was." Her voice catches on her throat and she stops for a minute.

The young man can feel the tears gathering on his eyes. Even after all this time, it still hurts to think about all the lost time. He misses his mom so much.

"And that made me unable to see how special you are." She turns to look at him.

His green orbs meets her blue ones and he can almost hear a click.

"My sister was my best friend and I lost her. You are her son, and I lost you too."

He opens his mouth a few times but he's unable to say anything.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is… Actually, I'm asking you to forgive me, if you can. I know that I've been, well, a bitch to you, and I wanted to make amends."

Turning his head, he watches the people around the park.

His son and Scorpius are still playing catch, while there's a couple kissing under a mistletoe. There's a group of girls giggling over something and a young boy taking pictures of the trees around him.

He runs his hand through his hair, blinking a few times. "You know that it will take time, right, Petunia?"

She gives him a hopeful smile. "Yes, I do. I can't erase a life of mistreat and humiliation, can I?"

"No, you can't."

His son and Scorpius are still running around when he offers her his hand. "But I guess we have to start at some point, right?"

She smiles at him, her eyes full of tears, before taking his hand on hers, squeezing it.

"Yeah, I guess we do."


	21. Incapable

_Written for the Mythology Class, task #11 -_ _Hermes, Messenger of the Gods: Write about someone delivering or receiving news._

 _WC: 755_

* * *

She stays hidden for a while longer, observing two of her most important people in the world.

Draco is sitting on the couch reading a newspaper while Scorpion is playing with some toys on the carpet.

They are so alike that it brings tears to her eyes. However, while Draco's eyes are grey with some blue in it, Scorpion's eyes have a little brown in them.

She smiles because that's her doing. Or her genes, but whatever.

She puts her hair behind her eyes and watches as Draco, for a splitting second, looks at their son.

He has an affectionate smile on his face and it warms Hermione's heart to know that he loves with everything in him.

He used to say that he was incapable of love. That they couldn't be together because she deserves so, so much better.

Even now, after 10 years of marriage and a beautiful child, she sometimes find him observing her with a guarded smile on his face, afraid that she might leave someday.

The sex is amazing when it happens.

Shaking her head, she clears her throat and smile bigger as her two boys looks at her with nothing but love on their eyes.

.

He can't stop looking at him.

They are sitting in the living room. While he reads a book, his son is playing on the carpet and Draco can't stop looking at him.

Contrary to what some people say, these moments are the ones that he cherishes the most.

Simple moments, moments that he can't believe that are happening to him.

And all thanks to beautiful witch that is spying on them from the doorstep.

Stupid woman. Doesn't she know by now that he always knows when she's nearby?

There's something different with her. She's been more reserved this days and he wants to know why. Even if by finding out he has to kill someone because of it.

She is his light. He doesn't say it very often because he's not a man of many words. And not because he doesn't have them, but because he doesn't know how to use them.

Even if his childhood days are long gone, the scars that he carries will accompany for the rest of his life.

She clears her throat and he looks up at her, at the same time as his son.

.

"Hey."

She says as she enters the room.

Draco opens his arm and she sits by his side, tucking her head under his chin. He drops a kiss on her read while Scorpion crawls up the couch and sits on her lap.

"Don't you think you are a little old for that?" Her husband says in mock annoyance.

"I'm five, so no." He lays his head on Hermione's chest and the adults barely contain their laughter.

"So," She starts.

"So," they both imitate her and she rolls her eyes at them.

"I have to talk to you about something."

Her tone is serious and it catches her husband attention.

"Um..." she holds her son tighter and it speeds Draco's heart because he's not used to see this version of Hermione. She looks insecure and she doesn't look into his eyes.

Being the stubborn, defying witch that she is, she always, always look into everyone's eyes.

"So," she bites her lower lip and Draco holds her a little more closer to him. "How do you feel about being a dad again?"

"I'm going to be a big brother?!"

Scorpion's head snaps towards them and Hermione laughs at the delight on his face.

"Yes baby, you are."

He jumps of her lap. "But where the baby is?"

"The baby is in my tummy. He or she is still very small so you ca—"

He stops mid sentence as her son puts his small hand over her belly. He puts it over her stomach and she doesn't have the heart to correct him.

"I can't wait to show you how cool our life is."

Her eyes are burning with tears as she turns her head to look at Draco, who still has to utter a word.

"I know you wanted a small family and I'm sorry—"

He puts his hand over his son's.

"Don't you ever apologize. Not because of this." His smile takes his whole face.

Lowering his head he whispers, "I can't wait to show you how cool our life is."

He mimics his son's words and Hermione thinks, placing her hand on top of theirs.

 _Incapable of love my ass._


	22. Invitation

_Written for muggle music, task #8._

* * *

He stares at the letter in front of him.

He didn't open it. He already knows what's inside so it's not like he really needs to open it to read it.

To Ronald Weasley and family.

He moved on, when they broke up. He found what was missing with Lavender and he's happy in a way that he wasn't before.

But when he heard that Hermione was dating Draco Malloy of all people he snapped.

They had a huge fight. He started yelling and she screamed things at him that he's sure that to this day, she still regrets it.

He knows for sure because he said things that he regrets too.

Harry had to intervene for them to stop and when he left her house, he swore that he would never speak to her again. And he left with her screaming "ditto" at him.

And now, almost two years later, she's inviting him to her wedding with the snake.

He still loves her. Not like the girlfriend she used to be. More like the best friend that she was, the third piece to the puzzle - him being the second and Harry the first.

And oh my how he missed her. She was mean, stubborn and fierce. And he's sure that she invited him because she wanted too. Because Hermione only does what she wants to do.

He smiles fondly.

She's reaching out. She's trying in spite of everything they said to each other two years ago.

He picks the envelope and opens it. Inside, there's the wedding invitation with cursive letters that he's sure Ginny made her choose.

"Are we going?"

He turns to see Lavender on the doorstep. When the invitation arrived, she handled him the envelope and left to the other room.

She's not jealous of Hermione, he knows that. But she also knows how much the other girl means to him, and how things turned out between them, so she gave him space to decide what he wants.

He smiles warmly at her, loving her more for it.

"Yes," he picks a pen to confirm. "Yes, we are."

 **x**

She's in the library when the owl arrives.

Opening the window, the owl drops the envelope on the desk in the center of the room and goes to her place by the other window.

Rolling her eyes, he picks the card and reads it.

Her grin covers her face and Hermione holds the card to her chest as if it's her whole world.

Draco chooses that moment to enter the library and, as he sees the blinding smile on Hermione's face, he can't help but smile too.

"So he accepted the invitation."

She turns to him. "Yes. Yes, he did."


End file.
